Mon Amour
by N.S.T
Summary: 4 years after Edward left Bella became cold. After her shift at a Seattle cafe, she has a run in with a vampire. But this vampire is not normal; he has blue eyes. Who is this strange vampire? What lies ahead for Bella? TwilightxVampire Chronicles. REVISED
1. Chapter 1

-:- **MON AMOUR **-:-

Chapter 1- Three mistakes to becoming an immortal

(Bella)

Edward has been gone for four years, four years since he left behind a naive, foolish, love sick girl. Now, when I gaze into my reflection, I see a wise and bitter woman staring back at me daring me to see otherwise. I've willingly stood back and watched the kind heart I had once possessed slowly turn cold and unyielding. I'd rebuilt the façade of my life for the benefit of Charlie and Renee; I didn't want them to worry. It's funny, _he_ always said I was a "terrible actress" but I guess my acting skills must have improved, because everyone around me believes that I have gotten over Edward and moved on with my life.

After graduating at the top of my high school class, I had received numerous offers from various colleges and universities. My life was here now and I felt it was unnecessary to move all the way cross county, so I settled with Seattle State.

I had just gotten off my shift at the café; because of my class schedule the late hour worked for me and apparently I had been one of the few that were willing to take that shift. Grumbling under my breath about the rain, I pushed the café door open pulling my hood over my head as I splashed through the obligatory Seattle puddles drenching my jeans. The streetlights shone bright in the stormy night illuminating the sheets of rain that poured all around me. I smiled to myself at Charlie's admonishing voice in my head telling me that I shouldn't be out this late at night, it's dangerous. Granted, recently there had been reports about the mysterious disappearances of young men and women. I couldn't care less. The kidnappings really have everyone in the city on edge and when I read about new disappearances in the paper, I can't help but think about vampires. Could it be possible that vampires were responsible? People disappear every day, vampires surely not, but there is still chance. If anyone knows the real possibility of that happening it's me.

I sighed as I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to tie my shoe, nowhere near a streetlight of course. That was my first mistake. I felt someone grab my waist and put their hand over my mouth. I let out a muffled scream as they held me tight to their body; a body I could feel that had the temperature of an ice cube.

"Shhh, you won't feel a thing," purred a musical voice. His voice was deep and rich, it sounded so similar to Edward's. Slowly pulling my hood back he swept my damp hair across my shoulder. A painful shriek erupted from my mouth as an excruciating pain shot through my throat as his razor sharp teeth pierced my skin. I began to feel strangely euphoric as his teeth dug deeper into my throat and a warm, wet sensation traveling down the side of my neck; I realized it was blood, my blood. He was drinking my blood. My mind howled in laughter at the irony of the situation. Slowly, a strange sensation coursed throughout my body bringing with it complete relaxation and my head lolled to the side as my breathing slowed to a painfully slow pant. I knew I was dying, but my mind was running wild. I felt only a dull throb when he removed his mouth from my throat, I could feel my heart slowing with every painful _thump_. My mind began reeling in anger, why didn't he finish me off?

"Why don't you kill me already, vampire?" my voice a gravelly whisper, but I knew he could hear me. Releasing his hold on me he set me gently on the cold wet ground and stepped slightly away from me.

"How do you know what I am?" he snarled.

Why didn't I feel the flames like last time? Where were they? "Why isn't your venom changing me?" I hissed. I was truly furious. I sat there astonished, why I can't feel anything. Maybe I'm too close to death to feel anything. My heart gave another painful _thump_. I took quicker breaths as I realized I wasn't ready to die. I thought I was, I really did, so where did it all go? I couldn't die, I just couldn't.

"Please, don't let me die" I pleaded looking up at the vampire. That was my second mistake. With the faint light from the nearby streetlight I could faintly make out my assailant; light shoulder length hair and skin pale as porcelain. Kneeling down next to me he snaked his cold arms around my waist helping me to my feet; although my body was completely numb I knew the chill from his cold hard skin was there. "I won't," I heard him say before a shroud of blackness closed around me.

-:- -:- -:-

I awoke hours later to find myself resting in a very luxurious bed; the gold and red velvet comforter soft under my hands as I tried to unsuccessfully untangle myself. The blood loss I had suffered clearly evident as I could barely lift myself to a sitting position. Lying back with a huff the events of last night came crashing back into my mind. Shouldn't I be a vampire now? Wasn't the change incredibly painful? Did I die? Obviously you aren't dead Bella, my rational mind told me, ok then so what the hell is going on? Realizing I needed answers that I couldn't get from myself I slowly rolled out of bed onto the plush carpeting covering the floor. The sound of a soft laugh caused me to snap my head in the direction of the noise. There the vampire stood lazily looking down upon me with his beautiful pale cobalt eyes. They were not red like they were supposed to be. My eyes slowly traveled over his form, his damp shirt clung to his muscled chest, light blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. Reaching down he helped me up from the floor and led me to what looked to be a library. Thousands of books lined the walls, soft leather chairs were scattered about the room and a fire blazed in the ancient hearth. Motioning for me to sit he walked across the room and poured a rich red liquid into a glass, sitting across from me he handed me the glass. I looked at him in confusion.

"It's wine, are you not thirsty?" he asked, the ghost of a French accent hidden deep within. I shook my head no. He gestured to the glass, "Please". I hesitantly took a sip of the rich liquor, the aroma filled my senses and my empty stomach and I blushed deep red when I realized I drank it all. "Good?" he chuckled softy, "Yes thank you" I muttered placing the glass on the table between us.

"Now tell me Isabella-," he began.

"How do you know my name?" I interrupted him, my brows furrowed. He growled.

"I don't appreciate being interrupted." He stated.

"You didn't answer my question." I retorted. He paused.

"It comes with the blood," He said reluctantly. He returned to the subject of the conversation before I could answer.

"As I was saying. Tell me how you figured out I was a vampire?" He leaned in.

"To tell you the truth; I don't really know if you are a vampire. The vampires I knew-"

"You knew vampires?" He interrupted. I nodded. He narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you." He stated. "It was a mere lucky guess, to think I started to believe-"

"I do not lie." My voice lowering to an almost growl, I narrowed my eyes at him. "Do not doubt my honesty for a moment, vampire." He raised an elegant eyebrow in curiosity.

"Is that so, Isabella? Please, pray tell, what were the vampires you knew like?" He leaned back into the leather chair, fingers tented, legs crossed.

Sitting cross legged in my chair I decided that there was no reason to not share my history with this vampire. "Well, if we are to be on a first name basis, what is your name?"

He nodded, "I have been called many things, at Renaud's theater in Paris I was known as Lelio, the lover," he stopped for a moment, his face sober, "the one who made me called me his beautiful, brave wolfkiller. In his eyes I was his." His eyes darkened as he reached back into his past. "I have been called the brat prince, the damndest creature, but, please call me Lestat." He smiled a charming smile, his dangerous teeth flashing in the fire light.

"Very well then" I sighed, "Four years ago I moved to Forks Washington, the most depressing place in the world. The place that became the caretaker to my most hated memories." I told him everything about the Cullen's and Edward, pouring my pain and heart break out to a stranger, a vampire no less. I occasionally stopped to take drinks of water that Lestat had provided for me, and continued replaying my past. When I finished I found myself staring down at the wooden floor.

The graze of a soft cold hand running across my face, effectively catching an unnoticed tear broke me from my reverie and I looked up, surprised, into Lestat eyes.

"You have been through many things, Isabella. You are a surprisingly strong human. You remind me of my mother."

"I have to be strong. Not for me, but for my family. I could care less if I dropped dead right here."

"Yet, in the alley you begged me not to let you die." A smug smirk covered his face.

"No one can accept death, Lestat. Did you when it came?" That took the smile off his face.

"No, I wasn't ready; I had just begun to live my dream in the theater. I was a star. I was so arrogant that I couldn't just give up my hard work." He stopped and looked straight into my eyes. "That's how I became like this. A cold blooded murderer, sometimes warm but still." He chuckled at the inside joke. I furrowed my eyebrows. He composed himself and again looked at me intently. "I wish I had another chance at living. That's why I'm going to let you live, Isabella. I trust that you will not tell our little secret, yes?" I froze in place. Let me live? He wasn't going to kill me.

"One condition."

"What would be this condition?" Lestat inquired.

"Visit me, and tell me your past. You've roused my curiosity, and I'm in need of a good story." Lestat just chuckled. That was my third mistake.

"Consider it done." I smiled tiredly. "Go to sleep, _ma petite cherie._ When you awake you will be in your own bed." I tried to fight my eyelids from closing, but my body seemed to have a mind of its only. I faintly felt him pick me bridal style and kiss my forehead. Just like Edward used to do.

-:- -:- -:-

_Author's note:_

_ma petite cherie-_ my love in french.

Yeah!! The revised chapter!!

AHHH!!

Ksangi is really a goddess!! Isn't it wonderful?! Ksangi, my most treasured Beta, is to thanks for this newly revised chapter. Now, everyone say 'Thank you Ksangi!!'

**I expect to find a 'Thank you Ksangi' in every review!!**

Review and make me feel better!

-N.S.T.

P.S. On my profile is notes at the bottom, updating you on what's happening in my life and when Mon Amour will be updated.

**-I DO NOT OWN THE VAMPIRE CHRONICLES BY ANNE RICE OR THE TWILIGHT SAGA BY STEPHENIE MEYER-**


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I still don't own anything. Lyrics for "Age of Innocence" by Anne Rice

-:- -:- -:-

Chapter 2. Age of Innocence

Apparently Lestat was a man, vampire, true to his word. The watery Seattle sunlight filtering through my blinds woke me, my eyes squinting as I gazed around my room. Groaning, I rolled on my side and looked at the alarm clock, the red numbers shone 7:31. I grumbled to myself, as I pushed back my warm cocoon of blankets so I could start my day.

The dizziness rushed though my body as I stood causing me to close my eyes and inhale deeply; obviously still weak from the blood loss._ Damn him._ Slightly wobbling like a drunk I slowly walked over to my dresser and grabbed a change of clothes, jeans and a plain white t-shirt should do the trick. I had neither the patience or will to be bothered "dressing up" for anyone at this moment. I stumbled over to my tiny bathroom, stripped off my clothes and turned on the shower. Leaning my head against the cool tile I held my hand under the water until it was warm enough. Glancing in the mirror I could clearly see the damage left behind by Lestat's bite, my neck was sore and a lovely purple bruise formed as I slept. I groaned._ Damn him. _I quickly showered and washed my hair, using the most generic scent I could find; strawberry shampoo was no longer welcome in my home. Stepping out into the steamy room I dried off, dressed and began my daily wrestling match with my hair, sighing in frustration I threw the comb down and settled putting it up in a messy bun.

"Screw it." I walked out of the bathroom into my living room switching on the television to Fuse just to have some background noise. I turned on my ancient computer knowing it would give me plenty of time to prepare breakfast before it decided to grace me with its presence. Walking into the kitchen I threw some bread in the toaster, grabbed my tea kettle filling it up with water and set it on the stove to boil. Standing on my tip toes I reached for a tea cup from the cupboard over the stove.

"We all know that hard rock wasn't very popular in the 1980's," The host on Fuse said. "But this rock band was at the top of the charts in America and Europe. Here is their number 1 video, Age of Innocence by The Vampire Lestat." I froze. The tea cup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.

_"This is the Age of Innocence_

_True Innocence_

_All your Demons are visible_

_All your Demons are material."_

I ran over to the television and stared at his image. His face was white, those eyes a hypnotizing grayish blue. They flashed violet in the light's glare.

_"Call them Pain_

_Call them Hunger_

_Call them war."_

His voice rang out like a siren's call, it should be deemed illegal; nothing that hypnotizing could be allowed. I could only imagine the concerts; overflowing with hot, drunken bodies, swaying to the sounds of his voice, screaming, shouting, offering their bodies to him. After speaking with him last night never could I have imagined such evil in his voice.

_"Mythic evil you don't need anymore."_

How vile, how wickedly horrid. I began to understand his plan, almost perfect. Almost, but for the fact that the other vampires definitely did not appreciate his performance.

_"Drive out the vampires and the devils._

_With the gods you no longer adore."_

I could hear the pain resonating in his voice. Granted he has been alive for centuries but these were not normal song lyrics, there has to be a story behind this. There has to be.

_"Remember:_

_The Man with the fangs wears a cloak._

_What passes for charm?_

_Is a charm._

_Understand what you see_

_When you see me!_

_Kill us, my brothers and sisters_

_The war is on_

_Understand what you see _

_When you see me!"_

I my eyes shut as the last notes of the song rang out, switching off the television I sat back and attempted to absorb what I had just seen. Who is this man- no vampire? What did he seek to gain in revealing vampires to the world? What were his motives? A frenzy of questions ran through my head. His story, I need to know it. I need to know. Now.

-:- -:- -:-

I expect to see a 'Thank you Ksangi' in every review.

Ksangi, my beta, is awesome!!

N.S.T.


	3. Chapter 3

Hola! The third revised chapter, tada!

Anyway, who saw the Twilight movie?? I DID! I loved it, even though it wasn't a lot like the book (which is a good thing), it was good. But, you have to remember it was 'Twilight: The Movie', not the book, so there was going to be pieces and parts cut out.

Now, I'm just saying this, who ever doesn't like Rob, can go f*** off, 'cause I love me some English buns!!

ON WITH THE CHAPTER!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, The Vampire Chronicles or Wikipedia.

-:- -:- -:-

Chapter 3- Research me

I sat there on the couch with my mouth hanging open, I was amazed, astounded, shocked and completely confused. I began going through the information running around in my head. He sang in a rock band. A vampire shouting to the world that he _was_ a vampire and even though there were many that thought he was lying some believed him and... my head hurts. The scream of the kettle's whistle broke me from my reverie and I slowly walked to the kitchen shaking my head as I turned off the burner. My mind was still spinning with this new revelation as reached over and grabbed the hot steel handle without a towel. The pain seared through the palm of my hand.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I slammed the kettle back on the stove and cursed its existence shaking my now burnt hand. I flipped on the cold water and thrust my hand under the tap. The initial sting of the cool rushing water made me hiss in pain, but gradually the water began to soothe the burn. I turned off the water as I examined my hand; a wicked looking blister stretched across my palm. Sighing, I pulled my first aid kit from under the sink, yeah, yeah the perils of a klutz; flipping the top open I grabbed the aloe and a roll of gauze. I groaned as I gingerly applied the aloe to the blister and carefully wrapped it in gauze. Dropping myself gracelessly into a kitchen chair I tilted my head back and exhaled loudly. Nothing like a little third degree burn to start the day, I though sarcastically.

-:- -:- -:-

The clatter and bang of the mailman doing his job carried up the stairs alerting me to the fact that I hadn't picked up my mail in a few days. Retrieving my mailbox key, I walked downstairs to get my mail. I reached my mailbox, slipping the key into the slot and cringed at the amount of mail stuffed in the very tiny box. Making sure I had it all, I cradled it in my arms and went back upstairs. Closing my front door with my foot I dropped the pile on my couch and began to sift through the mess. "Junk mail, bill, bill, bill", I groaned. Peeking out from under the catalogs and bills was an off white envelope, "Hm what's this?" I slid the rest of the mail on to the floor as I examined the envelope. In beautiful, almost calligraphic script was written:

_To: Ms. Isabella Swan_

_Form: Lestat de Lioncourt_

Why would Lestat write me? I flipped the envelope over searching for a return address. Of course, it had none; there was however a red wax seal imprinted with the face of a lion adorning the back flap. I slipped my finger under the flap gently breaking the wax seal and peered inside. I pulled a piece of off-white parchment from the envelope, sitting back on the couch I flipped it open and began to read.

_My Dearest Isabella,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I was sitting in my very empty home and I recalled our last conversation, the one in which you had stated that you were curious to learn of my past. My dear if we were to sit together so that I could regale you with my life story, well it would most likely take.... quite a long time. So in this day and age of electronic madness I will make a suggestion to you. Research me. I promise you that your hard work will not be in vain._

_I have decided that I miss your company terribly, so I will be paying you a visit tomorrow night. Please be present at the Midnight Cafe on St. Michael's street at eight o'clock. _

_Until then mon amour,_

_Lestat_

Why does he keep calling me that? I'm not his love. I am no ones love. Not anymore. Research him? Does he mean Google him? Snickering, I shoved the letter into my messenger bag and moved to sit in front of my computer. Clicking on the internet explorer icon I typed in 'Google'. The page came up and I quickly typed in his name:_ 'Lestat de Lioncourt'._ Lestat, who are you?

Thousands of sites came up, after clicking on at least 50 fan sites with gushing statements about his beauty and requests for him to "bite me" my frustration was palpable. Ridiculous. I finally came across a site that looked promising; there on the front page was a large picture of Lestat and from what I saw in the video, his band. Yes, that's him alright. I must agree with the fan girls, he was devastatingly beautiful. There he stood with his hands clasped together, his pale skin luminous against the black background, the cobalt blue of his eyes seemingly violet in the light, his perfect mouth slightly ajar, showing off the tips of his deadly, white fangs. Wait, fangs? I zoomed in on his face, getting a closer look at his teeth. Yes, those were fangs and by the looks of it, they weren't fake. I want to believe that he is a vampire, but his appearance is making me doubt myself. I thought vampires didn't have fangs? Maybe the vampires you know don't, my mind whispered.

I scrolled down, the information on this site mostly centered around his music. Sighing softly I clicked on another site; _Wikipedia- Lestat de Lioncourt. _Opening the page I sat back and began to read, halfway through the page one paragraph seemingly jumped off the page causing me to sit up.

"_Lestat deLioncourt or The Vampire Lestat claims that he wrote two books, auto-biographical in nature. The self titled __The Vampire Lestat__ and __The Queen of the Damned.__ Clearly these books are fiction. He has also claimed that a book entitled __Interview with the Vampire__ is in fact the true account of an interview done with his fledgling vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac about the life they shared. No doubt another work of fiction."_

He wrote a book about himself, two no less... but why? I'm surprised that he hasn't been torn to shreds by the vampire community he exposed. Maybe they were just one of those blog things. He wouldn't really publish a book. Would he?

-:- -:- -:-

A few hours later after cleaning my apartment and completing my English literature paper I decided to visit the local bookstore to prove my blog theory correct. I walked down the chilled streets of Seattle, gripping my black coat tighter to me as the wind whipped around my body. The warm air enveloped me as I pushed open the door of Highland Bookstore, since moving to Seattle the place that had become my home away from home.

"Good afternoon, Bella." John called from behind the counter.

"Hey, John." I waved, pulling my scarf from my neck as I walked over to the fiction section. My fingers ran over the spines as I made my way down the row. I froze, my fingers hovering over the three titles.

_Interview with the Vampire_

_The Vampire Lestat_

_The Queen of the Damned._

So, the books were real, so much for my blog theory, but did he write them? Sliding one of the books from the shelf I thumbed through it, _Interview with the Vampire_, my curiosity was peaked as Lestat's name was mentioned more than once. I closed the book, removed the other two and walked over to the counter.

"You gonna buy these books, Bella?" John asked brows furrowed as he rang up the books. "Vampire stories huh? I though you liked the classics?"

I nodded, "Just needed a little something different John."

"Ok then, that'll be twenty four fifty." Gritting my teeth I begrudgingly handed him the money.

"Thanks Bella, take care."

"You too John, bye."

Wrapping myself back up against the winter chill I took the bag containing my books and walked out the bookstore.

The walk home wasn't long due to the anticipation that was bubbling up inside of me; my mind was reeling with the revelation that the books were in fact real. Unlocking my front door I didn't bother taking my coat off as I sat on my couch and pulled _The Vampire Lestat_ from my bag and began to read.

_I am the Vampire Lestat……._

-:- -:- -:-

A/n:

_Mon amour: _My love in French.

Once again, say 'Thank you Ksangi', because she is da bomb, yo!

=p

MWAH!

Love,

N.S.T.

P.S. I would like 4 more reviews for the next chapter.


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